Little Red Riding Hunter
by singingowl
Summary: A dark twist on the classic fairy tale (has not been edited). Short-story
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

"Tonight's the night," I whisper to myself as I look to the sky. There are no clouds in the sky, so everyone can plainly see the full moon. All of the villagers have closed their windows and locked their doors, as if those precautions could keep a werewolf out. But if they could, there would be no reason to hire me.

I am Scarlet Fenner, AKA Red Riding Hood. I hunt werewolves for a living.

I hurriedly check to make sure everything is set. The traps are set, my weapons in my picnic basket are set, my red hood is set.

"As long as my hood is up, I'm perfect," I think to calm myself down.

Every kill is different, so you can never expect what is going to happen. Hence, you get a lot of nerves.

There is a howl in the woods surrounding the villages and I try to pinpoint where it came from. There, to the north. Another howl comes from that direction, but it sounds louder. The werewolf is closer now. I bend my knees, ready for anything.

The werewolf bursts from the forest and runs straight towards me. I jump to the side and the wolf barrels straight past me. But he uses the momentum from this run to swing himself around. He runs at me, faster than the first time. I duck to the side, missing his teeth but barely.

'Time to start to fight back!' I think. I rush towards him, taking my knife out of my basket as I run. When he is almost upon me, I jump over him and cut him down his back. He rolls on the back and writhes in pain. I walk up to him. He tries to take a swing at me with his claws, but he does not have the strength. I calmly cut his throat. He slowly falls limp on the ground, dead. I step back, leaving the corpse for the villagers.

I walk into the elder's house. He was the one to hire me and he would be the one to pay me. I knock on the door.

"It's dead sir," I say, knowing how villagers hate to hear the werewolf's gender.

"Who is it?"

"I have no idea,"

"Then let's go look," he says as he opens the door. I nod and lead him to the body. Since he is a werewolf, after he died he turned back into his human form. The elder shakes his head.

"I never would have thought that Michael was a werewolf," he muttered to himself. "Come back with me and I will pay you."

I follow him back to his house and he counts out 40 gold coins for me.

"Here you go," he says, holding the bag of the coins out to me. I take it and thank him.

"No thank you. We have been plagued by the werewolf for too long."

I nod and leave without saying another word.

Every full moon, people who have been bitten by werewolves turn into one themselves. Sometimes they do not even know that they turned! So every full moon, some town asks me to rid them of their werewolf problem, and I am happy to do it! I started hunting werewolves when I was twelve. That year, I was delivering a basket of goodies to my grandmother. As I was approaching her house, I saw that she was being eaten by a wolf! I ran in and, using the knife that I always keep in my basket, I cut the wolf's throat. He fell down dead, but first bit into my grandmother, causing a fatal wound. I was too late to save her. She died in my arms, happy to know that I saved her from being eaten. I buried her. As I was about to sew rocks into the wolf's stomach and throw his carcass into the river, I noticed that a dead man lay on the floor where the wolf's corpse was! I realized that it was a werewolf whom I killed. And so I pledged myself against all werewolves and have been hunting them down ever since.

I do not do much in the month between jobs. Sometimes when a village asks me before the full moon to stop their problem, I scout out the town and try to find potential werewolves. Werewolves usually isolate themselves, but the good ones are friends with almost the whole town. They love meat, so usually they are the town butcher, but not always. As I said, all kills are different. Some werewolves are extremely crafty and know what the telltale signs are for werewolves and hide them really well. Some are just stupid, so they are easy kills. I have never met a wolf that I cannot kill.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

I walk into a village. The people are milling about one house. I cock my head, now my curiosity got the better of me. I walk up to a man and ask,

"Why is everyone gathered here?"

He turns around and recognizes me,

"Oh Ms. Hood! A werewolf has just killed a little girl!"

"Right now? In the daylight?" he nods.

"What color was the coat of the wolf?"

"Well I caught a glimpse of the coat as the wolf was running away. I believe that it is black."

I hiss.

Black coats are bad. They are so rare that even I have only heard rumors about them. They are the most powerful and they can attack anytime they want, even in daylight. There is only one wolf who could possibly beat a black wolf: a white coat. It's a battle of light and dark, good and evil.

I wonder why he attacked though. Every wolf has a reason, and this one left the kill behind.

"The town heard her mother's cry for help. The mother saw the wolf attacking her child."

"That is horrible! So you think it ran away because the entire village was coming?" the man nods.

"I do not agree. A black wolf can take on an entire town and have a good chance of survival. There must be another reason!" I shake my head and push my way through the crowd. Finally I reach the distraught mother holding her daughter in her arms. I walk up to her.

"Excuse me. I am willing to help."

The mother looks up and startles.

"Red Riding Hood! You've come too late! You cannot save my child now!"

"No I cannot, but I can save this entire village," I say. I turn towards the villagers.

"What we are up against is one of the most powerful wolf I have ever met! Black coats are the most dangerous coats. Locking doors and windows will not save you from this wolf."

"Then what do we need to do to stop it?" Someone from the back of the crowd asks. I look at who said that. A teenaged boy looks expectantly up at me.

"Do not trust anyone. Your most loved one could be the wolf. Most of the times people do not even know that they are a werewolf." I turn away, back towards the mother.

"I am going to fight this wolf and I am going to kill it," I tell her. She just looks up at me with big, scared eyes.

I turn and walk through the crowd. All the people turn and watch me. All ranges of expressions are splattered across their faces: fear, hope, anger, depression. I have seen countless other towns with people just like these.

I have a little less than two weeks before the full moon comes again, but the wolf could strike any moment. I walk back to the elder.

"Tell your people to keep themselves inside as much as they can. Lock the town gates. And remind them to not trust anyone, even their family." the elder nodded and turned to go give my message.

I gave pep talks to the young men of the village, safety talks to the women, and told the people how to outfit their houses to guard against werewolves. But I knew my preparations would be in vain because a black wolf is the worst of all. I have only heard rumors of black wolves. I have never fought one.

Finally, the town is asleep. I walk slowly to the town gate. The guards took one look at who I was and let me through. I walked a little into the woods before shedding my identifiable red cloak. My bones extended, claws grew out of my fingernails, and fur grew all over me. I shook my snout and growled. It was nice to be back in this shape. I missed my wolf.

Yes, I am a werewolf. Maybe that is why I am so good at tracking (and killing) others of my kind. You might wonder why I kill other werewolves if I myself am one. I do not condone the killing of humans. I track down and kill werewolves that are killing humans. I kill no other kind of werewolf.

I took a long run through the forest before returning to where I left my clothes. When I shifted back, it was the beginning of morning. I walked back to the gates, nodding at the guards. They opened the gates and I walked back into the town, ready for a full day of work.

The week passed by quickly and I soon wondered when the wolf would strike again. Did it just leave or would it strike at the full moon?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

As the days passed, I helped the villagers try to barricade their town in the hopes that no more people would die.

I'm not that naive.

This wolf is the strongest that I have ever met. A black wolf has gone down in history to be unbeatable by everything except old age. Since this wolf has gone on a rampage and killed humans, this wolf must be killed. But this would be no normal hunt. I will have to use all of my strength and cunning to outsmart and beat this wolf. I had a small chance of doing it, but I would take that chance.

Luckily, I have a few tricks up my sleeves.

Soon, the dreaded night came upon the quaint little town. The full moon was steadily rising. Everyone had already gone into their houses and locked the doors, leaving me waiting in the middle of the town. Waiting for the wolf that may bring about my demise.

I waited for about an hour until the moon was right above me in the sky. Midnight. I heard a howl coming from outside the town. Then the wall shook. The wolf was trying to force his way past the barricaded town door. That would leave me just enough time to do what I had to do. I quickly put a layer of wolfsbane under the surface of the ground which I was standing on. Hopefully the fact that it was underground would make it harder for the wolf to smell it. Then I cautiously waited with baited breath, partially hoping that the wolf would be able to break through the barricade.

My hopes were answered. I heard a shattering of wood and a long howl before I heard the running of feet around the town. I smirked and waited patiently for him to catch my scent. Soon, I heard the steps coming towards me and my trap.

The wolf was bigger than I thought it would be. I was expecting a big wolf since black wolves are rumored to be the biggest wolves, but this one was ginormous. He stood as tall as I was when I was standing, which is about 5'6. His eyes are bright green and showed quite a bit of intelligence.

He walked forward to me, giving me a wolfy smirk. I knew that he thought he had his next kill. But as he stepped into the wolfsbane circle, he started to change. You see, wolfsbane reverts a werewolf in their wolf shape to their human shape.

He completed his change, but his face was still in the shadow. I could see that he was a tall man with broad shoulders. His aura screamed power, something that seemed very familiar to me. I would have to see his face to find out.

"Why don't you come into the light so I can see who you are?" I asked the man, hoping to catch a glimpse at this man and figure out how I knew him. Because I know I know him, I just don't remember how.

"You don't want that," he said quietly. Even his voice seems familiar, but I couldn't put a finger on where I had heard it before.

"Yes. That is very much what I want," I said, lacing my words with power so he knew he had a strong opponent and not some whimpering girl.

"Very well then," he said and took a step forward into the light.

I gasped in horror. I could see his face now and I knew that it would be hard to kill this wolf. Not only was he one of the strongest wolves in history, this man was my father.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

My father laughed under his breath as I took a step backwards.

"You," I said, my voice thick with distaste and nostalgia.

"Yes sweetheart, it's me," he held his arms out for a hug, but I took a step backwards, not missing the evil glint in his eyes. He wasn't here for some father-daughter time, he was here for the kill. I had to remember that.

"Why are you here?" He dropped his arms.

"This town seemed like a good one to feast upon. But now my choice is even better," He said. I shook my head.

"All those years you should have been there for me, but now you are? This is messed up. Don't you realise that by going off all those years ago, you left me orphaned?" He scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion.

"But you had your mother, right? Speaking of that, where is your mother?"

He didn't know. I had to tell him.

"My mother is dead. She committed suicide the day you left. She told me never to let you get me."

"What did she mean by that?" He said, hands clenched by his sides. His anger was escalating.

"My mother hated you. You made her life a living hell. She escaped it and I am glad she did."

My mother's life wasn't always horrible. She met my dad when she was walking in the woods one day and it was love at first sight. The only complication was that she was a human. They dated for a year before he told her that he was a werewolf. She didn't believe him until he showed her his wolf. That was the first and last time she would see his wolf. She was scared of his wolf, not only because it was a wild animal but because a wolf had killed her mother. He promised never to show her his wolf again. He kept that promise. She accepted his love and they got married one warm summer day when she was 20 and he was 22. But as the years rolled along and I was born, my father became more and more volatile. He would come home drunk some nights and beat up my mother. She took the pain silently. She loved my father with all of her heart.

But that love was slipping away the more he beat her. Soon, he would be drunk every night. Every day, my mother woke up with bruises. By this time I was 3 years old. My father didn't touch me, but seeing my mother get beat up hurt me more than bruises ever could.

One cold, December morning, my father said he was going on a hunting trip. I was 10. My mother sat me down in the kitchen. She looked thin and frail, and I wanted her to sit too so she could rest. She looked me straight in the eye and told me that she would be resting for a long time very soon. She told me to go pack a bag with lots of clothes. I ran and did what she said, not questioning her order. I thought that we were running away and I wanted to. I didn't want my mother to get hurt any more.

When I got back to the kitchen with my bag, my mother put some food into it and then we left. I never thought about the fact that she didn't have a bag with her for her clothes and food.

We got quite a bit away when my mother told me to run ahead. She said that she would catch up to me when I got to the closest town. I did as she said, running a little ways away. I didn't get far when I heard the shot. I dropped my pack and ran back to my mother. I found her where I head left her. But she was lying in a pool of her own blood with a gun in her hand and a bullet hole in her head. I knelt by her and cried.

A few hours later, I dug a hole in the ground, deep enough so her scent could never be found, and buried her. Now my father could never get to her.

I walked back to my pack and picked it up, ready for a long journey to the next town. And then the next. And the next. No town wanted me, for they were all scared of my father. I had no idea why. Finally I wised up and whenever anyone asked who my parents were, I lied and told them made up names. I grew up in a nice town called Ganswith. There I learned how to fight so I could become a werewolf hunter. I wanted no one to suffer like my mother had.

As I told my story to my poor excuse for a father, his eyes darkened in anger. Finally, when my story ended, he growled softly.

"I did that to your mother? I was the cause of her death?" he asked. I nodded.

"And I hate you for it," I told him. "You are no longer my father. You were a stranger the minute my mother died."

"Then I guess I do not have to care if I kill you," he said with a bitter smirk.

"Not if I kill you first," I said with a sneer, stepping out of the wolfbane circle. He did the same.

"I will give you 2 minutes of a head start," he said said before changing quickly and circling around me, waiting for me to change too. He thought that he had an easy kill since only a white wolf was prophesied to be able to defeat a black wolf:

The black wolf of a bitter past

Shall only breath his last

When the white wolf comes to kill.

And though the choice is hard,

As predicted by this bard,

If it doesn't, nothing else will.

They both shall fall into the dark

As one leaves its mark

But as one stays, the other goes to the light.

But here's the rub: we both knew that I was not the white wolf, as my wolf had a light brown coat.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

It was a long shot, I suppose, but it was a risk I must have to take. My father had to die but I would not, could not, be the one to kill him. I sorely wish I could. But I had to do what I had to do to stay alive, so I turned into my wolf and ran towards the town gates. I heard a wolfish chuckle from behind me and I knew that my head start was almost up. I sped up my pace and passed the town gates. I heard a howl from behind me and I knew that the chase is on. I ran into the woods and started to weave in between trees, trying to make my scent trail as difficult to follow as I can. I could hear him getting closer and closer. I started to pant as I was getting exhausted. I could see a break in the trees coming up and I gave the last of my energy to get myself there as fast as I could.

I broke into the clearing and fell down at the base of a flight of steps that led to a quaint little cabin. As I heard my father approach, the door of the cabin flew open and a gray wolf sprang at my father. They fought for a minute, but soon my father overpowered the wolf and ate it whole. He then stalked over to me. I laughed softly.

"You've changed so much Father. You used to be kind and caring. My mother loved you. But now, look at you. You have such big ears," I said, going in and out of states of delirium.

"The better to hear you with, my child," my father said.

"What big eyes you have."

"The better to see you with."

"What big...teeth you have," I gasped as he shoved his face closer to mine, getting ready to devour me.

"The better to eat you with my dear," he said. And with that, he punched upon me and ate me whole. But not before I let out an ear piercing howl that tore through the forest.

I fell down the deep, dark throat of my father and presently I landed in his stomach. I slowly sat up and looked for the wolf that had saved me. Instead of finding a wolf, I saw a little old woman sitting in the corner of his stomach. She had her gray hair styled into a bun and a pink nightgown. I assume that she was sleeping when she heard us fighting outside her house. She was twisting her wrinkled hands nervously.

"Hello. I am Scarlett," I said, scooting closer to the woman who had tried to save me.

"I am Doris but you may call me Grandma. Everyone else does," she said with a small tip of the head in acknowledgement.

"Why did you try to protect me? You do not know me."

"Ever since my daughter died because of a wolf, I have sworn to help anyone who is about to die at the hands of a wolf. It does not matter whether I know them or not. I nodded and was just about to reply a thank you when another person fell into the wolf's stomach.

This time, the newcomer was a man. His brown hair was messed up considerably. He was wearing a red plaid shirt with black suspenders holding up jeans. He had piercing green eyes. He looked to be about 25, four years older than me. He came to a stop and looked about in a dazed manner, as if he didn't know where he was. His gaze came to rest upon me and the old lady.

"I heard a pained howl and came running to help, but this giant, black wolf came running up to me and ate me," he said.

"I smell you. You're a werewolf. Did you shift beforehand?" I asked cautiously.

"I didn't have time to," he said, looking down in shame. I only nodded my head.

"But I think I have a way out," he said, reaching into a pack on his back that I had not seen before. He brought out an axe.

"Why do you have that with you?" I asked horrified.

"I am a woodcutter. Why else would I have it?" he asked in a bored manner.

"To kill someone!" I screeched, backing away from him.

"Technically, yes. I am going to use this to kill the wolf we are in."

"It won't help. Only the white wolf can kill it."

"It doesn't hurt to try, does it?" he coyly before bringing the axe down on the skin of the stomach. After a couple swings, light broke into the stomach from the hole the man was making. I gasped and moved closer to it.

"You did it. You can get us out of here," I breathed as I watched him make the hole bigger.

"I think it's big enough now. Here, let me help you," he said as he took my arm and pushed me through the hole. I fell to the ground and then stood up to catch Grandma as she was pushed out. Finally the woodcutter stepped out himself.

I walked over to the head of my father. He was lying on the ground, in immense pain. He uttered two words before he died:

"I'm sorry." I closed his eyes and then turned to the woodcutter.

"Shift," I ordered him. He slowly put down the axe. He shifted and I was not surprised to see the color of his coat.

It was white.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

We buried my father in the woods shortly after the woodcutter changed back into his human form. We didn't say a word as we dug the hole. I laid my father's limp body into the hole. I slowly put the dirt over him.

We walked Grandma to her house. Before she walked inside, she pulled me into a hug.

"If you ever are in these parts, please come visit. You will always be welcome," she said to me. She nodded at the woodcutter and opened the door to her house and stepped inside.

As we were walking back to the town to tell the good news to the villagers, the woodcutter suddenly asked:

"He meant something to you, didn't he?"

I thought about lying to him and saying no, he was just a random wolf that attacked me, but then I decided to tell the truth.

"He was my father."

The woodcutter didn't say anything and we walked in silence the rest of the way to the town.

He left me at the town gates.

"I need to go now. I think you are safe here, are you not?" I nodded to him. He gave me a kind look and then turned and walked along. I never saw him again.

When I told the villagers the happy news, they all declared the next day to be a holiday in honor of me. I hurriedly told them that I didn't kill the wolf, but since the woodcutter wasn't here, they decided that I would still be celebrated as their hero. The festivities lasted the entire day. There were games and parades and lots of food. I had so much fun just relaxing for one day. But when the night was starting to slip in, I knew that I would have to get back to work. There were still many other werewolves terrorizing the human population.

But still, every Christmas Eve without fail, I went back to visit Grandma. I would tell her about my adventures and she would tell me stories of her past. I was there as she died. She was sick the last time I came to visit her. She was laying in bed when I knocked on her door. She weakly told me to enter. I ran over to her side and she laughed, saying she wasn't that ill. But I knew better.

We talked just like normal and soon, she got sleepy.

"My time to leave this world is coming, my dear," she said gravely.

"Grandma, I-" She shushed me.

"I want to tell you something before I go. I am-" her body was racked by coughes. I could only watched as she slipped away. But she whispered "I am proud of you" before she died. I picked her up and buried her next to my father. Evil and Goodness buried next to eachother.

But her last words were more important to me than anything anyone has ever said to me. Because, in a way, not only was I hunting werewolves to save people and to avenge my mother, but also so that I had people out there who believed in me. Who were proud of me. And that is the best feeling in the world.


End file.
